


Undercover

by TariTheNurse



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Blood and Gore, Explicit Language, Forced Prostitution, Girl Power, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Multi, POV First Person, Post-Avengers (2012), Pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Reader-Insert, Reference to all sorts of shitty things, SHIELD, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-07-14 07:20:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16035668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TariTheNurse/pseuds/TariTheNurse
Summary: "Glory" isn't her real name, and this shouldn't be her real life...caught in the web of the criminal underworld, she does what she can to stay alive despite having no say over what happens to her body or mind, because the dreams of escaping are long dead.





	1. Welcome to my life

“Got one. Full package.” The troll of a man barked at me, proceeding to give me ten minutes to get ready.

When he left the little room, I checked the makeup and hair, making sure that nothing would get out of place no matter what positions I had to get in. I hadn’t always been as nimble, but the last years had given me a skillset that helped secure my position and the kind of safety that comes from being the boss’ favourite. Grimacing at the thought, I drained the champagne directly from the bottle before shrugging off the silken yukata and stepping into the impossibly high heels. White, matching the lingerie and stockings I’m wearing.

_I can do this._ The thought repeated itself as a mantra until I reached the double doors leading into the crowded club. Over the hubbub of customers’ chatting, the music with the heavy bass layered itself like itchy wool, numbing and irritating at once, but it helped me keep my head held high and walk with a strong rhythm, hips swayed confidently with each step that brought me past the lecherous gazes of the various criminal men. Out of the corner of an eye, I saw a hand reach towards me in an attempt to grab my ass and I almost felt sorry for the guy. Not because I liked it, when people tried to touch me, but because Ivan was walking a few feet behind me. His job was to protect the boss’ merchandize. I heard the muffled crack of bones breaking and the squealy groan from the idiot who’d tried his luck, but I’d learned a long time ago that I had to keep on moving. _Never show pity._ Scanning the room discreetly, I recognized several of the guests. Mr. Putin – an alias to symbolize his political ties, Mr. Arick – a man with an affinity for procuring any weapon, Mr. Yakamoto – specialized in drugs. That was the kind of customers my boss catered to, while he himself dabbled partially in trafficking and mainly in “problem solving”…the kind that required an expensive skill set and nerves of steel. _Never show, that I understand what is going on._ That was a secret for my boss and me.

The heavy curtains of the private booth were drawn, indicating the presence of my client, so the demure smile was plastered onto my face the moment I stepped through. Allowing the black velvet to sway into place, I nodded at the lone figure. _The woman._ I’d noticed her the few other times she’d come around, because even if women were allowed in, it was a rare sight. Now she’d gone and done the impossible: paying for half an hour with me.

The booth was a near perfect circle, only broken on one side where the curtain replaced the wall. The redhead was lounging like a cat on the plush, purple seat that stretched around a tiny stage in the centre that’s sporting a pole, similar to those on the bigger stages in the main area of the club. She had already been given a champagne cooler with the most expensive bottle and two glasses, but they were standing untouched. _I get it,_ I thought as I sauntered over to open the bottle. When the first glass was full, she indicated for me to fill the other too, then waited while I placed the champagne back in the ice-filled bucket before handing over the second glass. Thin white scars were visible on her knuckles, similar to those the bouncers and security had from dealing out punches.

“To new acquaintances,” she encouraged with a heavy Russian accent.

I just nodded, taking a sip and mentally cataloguing anything about the woman. _Impeccably groomed._ That meant access to money. _Redhead and dressed confidently._ Didn’t mind the attention. Starting a slow walk, I positioned myself with my back to her with the stage between us. _Scars on hands._ Possibly able to defend herself. I placed my glass on the edge of the stage, planting myself there as well so I could lean back and grab the base of the pole. Above me, in the mirror ceiling, the client was staring at my sprawled form, but she didn’t look up, and I didn’t need to make eye contact yet. One pull, and my shoulder was resting against the cold metal. With a few moves and an intense core strength, I’d flipped myself upside down, hanging by my legs wrapped around the only tool I had at my disposal.

“My name is черный (*Chernyy)” _Black._ “What’s yours?” She watched with a raised eyebrow as I spun around the pole.

We all had stage names or nicknames, but that sort of question only had one answer: “Whatever you want it to be, honey.” A lazy semi-cartwheel brought me right side up.

“What does your boss call you?”

That wasn’t normal talk. Most people didn’t care about our names unless it was to identify which one of us they wanted time with. “Glory…” I said, not looking at Chernyy as she and the room circled me slowly while I held on to the pole with only my hands.

Truth be told that name was only used if he was pleased with me and my performance, and even if I did my best to make sure that was all the time, he’d still had too many chances to call me other things. Especially while I was learning the many unwritten rules us girls had to follow to survive in the hell hole he had created.

“Glory.” There was a smile in her voice. “Come sit here and talk with me…I get dizzy from your show.”

I had a special position that came with certain benefits that almost could have made it worth the danger of being so close to the boss. There were different risks instead, of course, but not having to get down and dirty with every single customer…yeah, that was a privilege few girls enjoyed. Not that it wasn’t technically possible to buy my time for that too, but very few dared it. They were too scared of my boss. _Full package._ This lady had laid down a fortune and was risking her life to get skin-on-skin. As I sauntered towards her at a slow pace, I made sure to look her over carefully. Tailored pantsuit in a lead-grey fabric that made the red of the silken top underneath stand out in harsh contrast. Chernyy’d unbuttoned the blazer already and as I walked over she kicked off the high heeled shoes too. _Nail polished toes._ One of her feet had a white scar wrapping around from the top and disappearing via the outside of the foot. Rings were blazing with the reflection from the light on several fingers, all of them discreet and obviously expensive in the taste of someone with “old money”.

She patted her lap before I sat down completely, signaling to use her as a seat and I had no choice but to do as she wanted. Slowly, to make sure she could see every movement I made, I straddled her without breaking eye contact. _Green because of lenses_ . My knees dug into the velvet on either side of her and my fingers curled the edge of the backrest in a way that put her in a cage made of my arms and body on the outside. Leaning in, I let my lips brush her earlobe as I softly whisper what her next wish might be.

“Take of my jacket.” It was an order, but she spoke kindly even if it was obvious that there was no choice.

My mind was numb as I slid my hands behind the lapels. Palms brushed against the perfect skin of her shoulders and down her arms, taking the piece of clothing with them until it fell the rest of the way and I had to take her by the wrists to free her of the sleeves. The thin lace of my lingerie and the smooth silk of her top was nowhere near enough to shield me from the heat of her body and I felt my insides tense, threatening to seize in panic as the close contact brought back memories from when I first had gotten to that place. I could feel the nausea. The clammy panic that made the world swim before my eyes.

Chernyy moved faster than I’d expected and suddenly she was holding me in a careful embrace. “It’s okay. I won’t hurt you like the others have.” It was nothing more than a whisper that not even the hidden microphones in the little room would be able to pick up. “Breathe through it. I got you. You’re gonna be fine.”

She kept mumbling soothing words in my hear, her scared hands caressing my back steadily until I could join the rhythm with my breathing. Only then did it tick into my brain that the heavy Russian accent had disappeared, and I froze once more.

“Who’re you?” Even if it hadn’t been for the mics, I’d still have to be quiet because there were people on the other side of the closed curtains.

As she leaned back I could recognize the calculative gaze that was trying to weigh me. “I’m the one who can get you outta here. But I need your help for it.”

“Lie.”

We just sat there, staring at each other until the music that had been playing cut off abruptly. _Time’s up._ Pushing myself off the strange woman, I couldn’t help but wish that it might be true. That I could get away from the place of misery that had been my home and prison for years, but if that was to happen, then I had to stay alive and that wouldn’t be possible if anyone found out about this conversation – even if I had rejected it. The invisible mask slid back on effortlessly with its teasing smirk and empty eyes. All the girls had those.

Just as I pushed the curtains aside, I heard Chernyy from behind me. “I’ll come back.”


	2. Work meeting

The boss hadn’t had time to see me straight away, but I knew I’d be interrogated and even as I lay on my cot hours later, listening to the distant sounds from the street outside, I could feel my heart racing in fear. What could I say? If anyone found out the woman, Chernyy, had said she’d get me out…a shudder racked my body and I curled up tighter under the faded blankets. There had been other girls who thought they could escape this hell, and in a way, they had, seeing as they weren’t here anymore, but they weren’t alive either. Some had been killed as they tried to escape, others had been planning it and when it got discovered they were either shot right then and there (especially if there were others of us to see), the last were sold of cheap to pimps or brothels that didn’t take as much care of the merchandize. No, I could not risk anyone learning about Chernyy’s offer – even if I wouldn’t trust it to be true.

…

Somehow, I’d managed to fall into a dreamless, heavy sleep from which I was ripped the instant a large fist slammed into the door. Being the favourite meant that I didn’t have to share like the other girls did, and it was only them that got woken up with slaps or kicks.

“Boss wants to see you – now!” The standard black military boots are shuffling impatiently, and the voice is gruff.

Planting my feet flat on the cold floorboards, I knew this was it and my heart was already trying to escape through a much too dry throat. Wrapping the yukata around me, there was no time to pretty up or get properly dressed instead because when the boss wanted something, you ran to appease him.

I had to hurry to keep up with the man as he let me down corridors, into a tunnel system and then up into the building on the other side of the street without once having seen the sky. The boss’s house was much fancier, showing of an old-fashioned, but rich style that always made me think of castles like Versailles or Buckingham. Soft, thick carpets silenced our steps as we passed leather and marble furniture displayed under chandeliers, even the glistening stone steps leading upstairs made me feel like a piece of trash that should be thrown out, but all that was forgotten the moment we stopped before the black double doors. Behind those was the office where the boss would have meetings with his so-called clients. My stomach was filled with lead, and my legs didn’t feel like they belonged to me, so it was someone else who made me step through when we got the order, and it was someone else that sad me down in the delicately embroidered armchair with golden frame.

The boss’ name was Daniel Stein, but only a handful of people actually used that name, and honestly it didn’t seem to fit him. Sure, he was hard as flint, pure business and cold reason with a sprinkle of malevolence. Still there was something else to him. Something I still hadn’t figured out. Maybe other people felt it too or it was something else that made them refer to him as ‘The Hand’, and as I sat there with nothing but an ancient mahogany desk between us, I kept staring at his hands.

“You had a new audience last night, didn’t you, Glory?” Oddly slender fingers were busy tracking lines and writing in a thick ledger, only pausing for a moment as he looked up at me to see the nod I answered with. “Tell me about her.” A glittery cufflink reflected the light briefly.

I had to swallow a few times first and even then, my voice was still weak. “She looks like she’s from old money, sounded Russian…” there was a brief delay in the interval with which black numbers were added to the crisp pages, “she used a name that means ‘Black’, and then wanted to know what my name is.”

“What did you tell her?” The pen was capped dutifully and laid aside next to a green, a blue, and a red one, leaving the hands empty to be folded.

“’Glory’.” It wasn’t a lie, even if I wanted to stop him asking about the conversation the woman and I had had. “I noticed something else…” a hand motioned for me to go on, “her hands were scarred…like from fighting.”

There was no answer this time and as the silence stretched on and became unbearable, I dared to steal a peek at the boss. Of course, I’d seen his face before. When I had first come to this place, I hadn’t been nearly frightened enough to know what was good for me and I had stared openly at everyone and everything…even after the first ‘reprimand’, although it was in protest. After the second lesson, I never did it again, but kept my head down. What I saw this time was roughly what I remembered: white-blond hair locked in perfect waves above similar eyebrows and icy blue eyes that were staring at nothing while the owner was reconsidering the information.

“[Y/N]…what else did she want?” There was an edge to the voice now and it had dropped half an octave, both resulting in a threatening demeanor, and still it was the use of my real name that made me freeze with fear. “Tell me _everything_.”

Starting from the top, I went through nearly everything that had happened and what I had seen, hoping to everything that was holy that he wouldn’t notice that I was holding something back. While I spoke, he moved from behind the desk to stand before me and I couldn’t wrench my eyes from his. Once I was done, I felt like I had run a marathon and I was convinced he’d hurt me…but instead he called out for the muscleman who had escorted me through the tunnels. I couldn’t hear the mumbled order, only see the crooked, mindless smile on the man’s face as he left the office. Then we waited.

The first time the door opened, it was only the butler with a silver tray of tea and cookies arranged beautifully. The smell of it made my insides scream for food, but I knew I’d get in trouble for mentioning it, so I took to staring at the plush carpet while imagining the dirty toilet down the hall from where us girls slept. Precariously at first, a thin sliver of sunshine emerged before my feet, and as it grew in power, so did the boldness of the colours hidden in the rug. It wasn’t just dark as I had thought, but an infinite blackness held at bay by vibrant red and green patterns, flowing and dancing like water. Following the bright spear to the long curtains that were meant to shield the place from spying eyes, I was surprised to realize that it must have been the middle of the day. Maybe people out there were at work or in school, living their lives without knowing what went on behind the walls of that the houses Daniel Stein owned…or if they knew, they made sure not to get on the wrong side of him.

The boss answered a knock and the brute was back, dragging Chastity behind him. The poor girl had been having a hard time recently. After an incident where a customer dropped his wedding ring, she had had to cater to the tough crowd. The ones that didn’t like rules and restrictions when enjoying an hour with a girl. Chastity had been the one the ring guy had pointed at as a thief rather than to own up that he’d been too drunk to tug it safely away in his wallet or something. The loose t-shirt and ripped jeans didn’t cover the rainbow of bruises that was scattered over her body and she had dark bags under blood-shot, unseeing eyes…not because she was blind, no, she was so doped up that she didn’t care anymore. But I could see, and it terrified me. Made me turn my head the other way.

“[Y/N], look at her.” The boss asked quietly. “Look at her _real_ careful now.” In two strides, he was behind my chair and grabbed a fistful of my hair to twist my head. His cold breath tickled my ear when he lowered himself down to whisper like I was a confidante and not a whore. “Do you want to end like that?” I couldn’t speak. Only a whimper escaped my lips and I had to try to shake my head despite the hard grip that was pulling at my scalp. I wanted to survive. “If I find out…that you’re keeping secrets from me…that there’s something you’re not telling me…you’ll end like her…” finally he let go, pushing me forwards off the chair where I landed in a heap on the floor, “and then, [Y/N], this will happen.”

A metallic clicking sound warned me before the explosion of a gunshot made my ears ring. It was as if everything happened in slow motion: the muscleman stepped aside nimbly, allowing Chastity to fall limb to the floor right in front me with a dark hole in her forehead. Perhaps it was her luck, after all, that she had been high as a kite, because it had made her oblivious to what was about to happen. There was no fear on her face, only peace. A peace I wanted to regain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this got very...harsh.


	3. Rendezvous

Every day that followed my trip to my boss Daniel Stein’s office was a day spent in Hell. No matter where I went, I was acutely aware that I was being watched, judged, that the tiniest facial expression or odd word was getting reported. I didn’t dare speak to the other girls, didn’t dare tell them that Chastity was dead. Most of them didn’t notice anyways, and the rest didn’t seem to care except for trying to take over her regulars. Truth be told, this wasn’t a place where people lasted long and while they were here, they got drugged up to easier handle everything. I envied them sometimes. Not that I _wanted_ to get addicted and lose myself like them, but they became numb, oblivious to the horrors and humiliation. Not me. Each day was crisp and clear, cutting through my senses and memories like a warm knife in butter, even after a handful of years. Why? Because I was worth soberer.

Tracing the curve of the client’s shoulder with my fingertips, I was seated perfectly to listen in on his and his companion’s conversation during a meeting with my boss’s representative. The meeting itself was in English, but the two guests commented on anything in their native tongue, not expecting to be understood Looking over at Gilliam, I saw the same puzzled expression as they did – he was clueless of the fun they were having on his expense. And me? Who cared about a whore, as long as I looked pretty and fed them alcohol. With simple hand gestures and blinks, my task was to guide Gilliam by relaying the meaning of the foreign comments and before the meeting was over, he knew that they were going to double cross the boss, keep the money and the wares, and (according to their plan, at least) get him killed at the rendezvous.

As I walked out of the private booth after the meeting, I knew I should consider myself relatively safe. I’d be hard to replace as I had just, indirectly, saved the boss’s life, something that always resulted in a present such as the yukata or the clean mattress. That was my real job in that place.

Halfway across the room, my eyes finally registered the surroundings properly, skirting across familiar faces in the coloured darkness until they locked on to a lonesome figure at the bar. Slender, confident, elegant. She was wearing a dress this time, that did very little to hide her curves and flat expanse of the stomach as it dips towards her thighs. With one hand, she was holding on loosely to the stem of a martini glass while she was toying with the toothpick-speared olive with the other, making it look like a dance of fingers. Even with the side to me, I knew she’d seen me. That she was waiting for me to make a move.

Ignoring the annoyed huff of my personal guard, I sidled over to the bar to get myself a drink despite knowing that it would be a victory for the boss. It was the only way I could rebel safely, hiding behind the excuse of appearing elusive and exotic to the customers when it reality it was because I couldn’t stand being stared at like a piece of meat. Brushing against the shoulder blades of Chernyy, I felt my heartrate spike out of fear of going to far. _If he found out._ But the bartender didn’t react to the hitch in my voice as I ordered a Screwdriver, he only saw the flood of people coming his way to get a closer look at Stein’s pet.

 _What was I doing?_ There was no way I’d be able to say anything to the mysterious woman, to ask her if she meant what she had said. That was when it happened, just as I’d accepted the drink and lifted it to my lips, a seemingly random movement and somehow, she’d bumped my elbow, making me spill the a few drops of the fruity liquid. There was no time for me to react before the woman began to apologize, handing me napkins to dry myself and disposing of them as soon as I’d used them. She even dried the glass before placing it on a fresh, folded napkin.

“My apologies, mizz. How clumsy ov me.” The Russian accent was rolling off her tongue easily, making me think I had imagined that she had sounded perfectly American during our first meeting. “I hope…maybe I can make it up forr you, yes?”

 _Was that a hint? What was I getting myself into?!_ Meeting her eyes, my doubt vanished like dew before the sun. Behind the green contact lenses and the apologetic smile was a sincerity that carried a deeper meaning, and I knew I had to act on it now or it would be lost forever.

My hands wrapped around the tall glass, carefully pinching the napkin as an insulating layer on all sides of the smooth cylinder. “Anything you want will have to be booked or payed for...but then nothing’s impossible.”

I prayed to all the gods I could think of as I walked away from her that she understood what I meant, that she wasn’t a trap the boss was setting up to test my loyalty, that one day…one day I could really get away…


	4. A job to do

I knew it the moment I heard the other girls stopped talking. Like an electric charge in the air, his presence alone would set people on edge, make them quiet and nervous as they waited for the inevitable shock. The sound of his footsteps was the next warning. Still with my back to the half-open door, I could see his shadow precede him in the rickety vanity’s cracked mirror. The boss never comes over here. Never. He could be seen in the club around the corner, of course, because that was his domain, his kingdom…but he never lowered himself to enter this place. _He knows. Oh, crap…he knows._ My brain was screaming at my body to run and never allow myself to be caught by him or his brutes even if there was nowhere for me to go, save for through the window, but my body didn’t listen, and I found myself sitting immobile staring over my own shoulder as the boss pushed the door open. The bodyguard stayed outside and didn’t even glance in before Daniel Stein closed the only exit with a light kick that made paint chips flutter off the aging wood.

“Glory, [Y/N]…” the way he said my name reminded me briefly of my father and I had to bite down the pain of the loss, “it seems someone’s…booked you.” He had come to stand right behind me, letting me see how his delicate hands settled almost tenderly on my shoulders. “I don’t…like her.”

 _Her._ There was no reason for any of us to clarify who he was referring to. The supposedly Russian woman was a unique guest in more senses than one: Chernyy was one of the few women who frequented the club as more than a voiceless assistant of a crime lord. _She’s coming back!_ The light grip on my shoulders was the anchor holding me down in the suffocating reality that I was still there even if I closed my eyes to distance myself.

“There’s no reason to keep this from you, Glory...you know what kind of people I have to work with, the bottom feeders that come to the club…” warm thumbs were tracing my shoulder blades, seeking out the knots and trying to release the tension that had build up over several years, “I’m always very diligent when someone shows an interest in my businesses, I make sure to find out _exactly_ who they are. Do you know how, Glory?”

When I didn’t answer right away, the gentle massage became hard and his fingertips dug deep into my skin and flesh, sending jolts of pain into my arm and body. “Research!” The word rode on a gasp. “You-you dig up informa-ation.” I hated that I was stuttering. Hated how weak I felt under his grip.

Suddenly, the boss’s voice was right next to my ear, whispering distinctly. “How?” I could smell the tea he had been drinking earlier. “ _How_ do I get the information?”

“Everywhere…observing them, finding their friends and families, records, rumours…everything.” My arms were going numb, but I could still feel the prickle of tears in my eyes. _No! I won’t let him have that too!_ “You have me listen in when they think I don’t understand.”

Finally, he softened the hold, returning to the gentle touch from earlier as if to lessen the pain he caused. “Yes, Glory. You…help me, like I help you. Your life is better because of how I reward you, isn’t it?” Fingertips stopped the languid movements by my neck and I didn’t dare do anything except nod. “This will be the most important task you’ve ever had, [Y/N].”

As if in a trance, I watched him take out a ring and reach down before me to place it on the table, his body pressing against me while he leaned in. Lingering with our bodies pressed together, he explained how I could open the ring to reveal a needle with a sedative.

“Not enough to kill her, just to put her to sleep.” Nimble fingers were tracing the outline of the bra. I should be repulsed, but years had made me immune…at least until I was alone in the dark. “When she’s out, all you have to do is get Fabio or one of his guys.”

Fabio was a human gorilla tasked with both protecting us girls and the customers, depending on what the situation required or what services had been bought. Obviously, we were too many for him to watch all on his lonesome, so he had backup. They could be seen in the shadowy corners or at strategic exits at the club, trying to appear inconspicuous and failing quite spectacularly.

“…and then? Sir?”

My heart was racing so hard it almost drowned out my own voice and it seemed impossible that the boss wouldn’t notice, specially as he hunkered down behind me to rest his smoothly shaven chin on my shoulder, so he could meet my eyes in the mirror.

“Then you wait until I’m done.” The smile reached his eyes with a coldness that took my breath away. “Pretend that she passed out…if she wakes up…”

 _If_. I didn’t dare ask what he meant, and the answer was probably not one I wanted to know anyways.

Before he leaves, I had to promise to be a good girl and play my role ‘like always’. Of course, I said what the boss wanted to hear. Of course, I got ready for a night on the floor and the private room. The very last thing I did before leaving the crumbling home was to slip on the ring and push the flat enamel circle away with a tony click to reveal the needle.


	5. Double agent

Walking in a haze of smoke, sweat, and alcohol fumes created by the many guests at the club, it was as if I had been split in two. One part of me was trapped inside my own body, a prison decorated to look like fragile enough to be broken into pieces at the smallest jolt. The other part was walking a few steps to the side and watching everything in slow motion. Delicate, black and blue lace partly visible under a black silken robe that only covered enough to remind everyone that I wasn’t up for grabs like the other girls. I was halfway through the crowded room when I saw a shadow detach itself from a corner table in the shadows. _The boss._ There was no easy way to escape him, and so I kept walking instead. Each step was in perfect synchronicity to the beat of the music, making my hips dip and lift the way the men liked it as I passed them by.

“Glory.” The part inside me clawed at the living prison at the way his fingers curled around my left wrist and the unspoken warning in his feathery voice. “You look stunning tonight.”

The detached me reminded me to smile, to put on the mask I’d gotten used to wear since I became one of his workers. It was all a part of a creepy, messed up show: the invisible mask, the makeup, the lingerie, the boos and drugs and fear that kept us from running when someone hurt us, or fucked us, or worse. _Hold on,_ my detached mind whispers soothingly, _just a bit longer._

“Of course, boss, I represent you whenever I walk across these floors.” The voice that left my lips was honeyed the way we’ve learned he likes.

It was too dark to see the colour of his eyes, but not the sparkle of malice and pride. “Good girl. Make me proud, then.”

I could feel his fingers sliding over my skin and the capped ring that felt foreign and heavy on my hand, but I resumed my parade towards the doors with the intricate pattern painted on in purple, red, pink, and gold. Flames and feathers hinting at female figures. I might have found them beautiful in my old life…in this one they made me nauseous.

But Fabio was right behind me, his presence forcing me silently to move on like nothing was wrong, and in a sense, it was a relief to enter the hallway beyond the doors because of the relative silence there. The music reverberated through the wooden floor still, just not enough to drown out the muffled sounds from some of the “play rooms” we were passing all the way till the very last at the end. Chernyy won’t be in there yet. The customer never waits for the ware in this place, ensuring in return that everything can be controlled…including the tiny recording devices hidden in strategic places.

…

The candles were lit (it was the only “play room” where we got to use real candles), the champagne was bobbing in the ice bucket with the foil and wire off, and the silk sheets were pulled aside on the immense four poster bed. Apart from that, the only other furniture was a chair and a low dresser, both made in the same dark and heavy wood.

 _It’s gonna be okay,_ I kept reminding myself, _just breathe!_ Stopping my pacing across the hard stones of the floor, I closed my eyes and inhaled slowly through my nose while counting. After three I began to exhale through my mouth, pushing the spent air out of my lungs for a beat longer. _Again._ In and out, helping me regain a measure of control over my own body. I hadn’t said or done anything that could get me in trouble with the boss even if this woman turned out to be nothing but a test of my loyalty, and I hadn’t done anything to her, that would get her in trouble…yet. Staring down at the ring, it weighed like lead and threatened to pull me to the floor with it, it made my hand feel cold. Foreign. Like it wasn’t mine. _Maybe, if I pretend to be sick? Then the boss won’t let me go through with it ‘cause it bad for –_ The sharp knock on the door interrupted my thoughts, and I barely had time to find a pose with the dark silk sliding off my shoulder before the door opened to let in Chernyy.

She was a vision. The red hair curled perfectly to let it bounce at every step she took, framing the angelic face with the intelligent eyes and crooked smile that I’d somehow memorized already. She must have come straight from the street, because she was still wearing a long coat that was wet with rain and tied securely around her waist. Sure, it was buttoned all the way up, and somehow it still didn’t manage to hide the shape of her body and, judging by the black leather boots that disappeared up under the coat, neither would whatever she was wearing underneath.

Tearing my eyes away, I looked to Fabio who was still standing in the door. “Thanks, I’ve got it from here.” The man looked bummed when he closed the door, but to me it was the first time I felt I could breathe. “Chernyy, was it?” _Play coy, even though we both know the game._ Pulling myself up, I gave her time to look me over.

“For now.” There were sparkles in the steel of her eyes. “Stand there for just a bit longer.”

She began to open the coat while walking to the chair, pulling it off with her back still to me. Not only was she wearing leather boots, her entire outfit was a catsuit that hugged her every curve. Conjuring a phone from somewhere in the tight suit, she tapped efficiently at the screen for a moment.

“I’m happy your boss agreed to let me have this time with you,” her fingertips were still dancing over the smooth screen, “even if it’s just to find out more about me.” I could see the silhouette of her cheek rise on a smile. “There! Shit, I thought Daniel Stein would’ve more advanced tech.”

“What did you just do?” Someone must have taken and dumped me in ice water.

She was in front of me in two steps, holding out her hands for me to take and smiling like an old friend. “It’s okay, [Y/N]. I’ve knocked out the surveillance and they won’t even know for the next 20 minutes because it’s a delayed loop they use. Cheapskates.”

 _She knows my name!_ Everything felt unreal and it wouldn’t have surprised me if I’d woken up in my bed. But I didn’t, and the woman kept talking even though I wasn’t really listening. Her coming here, dangling freedom in front of my nose, simply couldn’t be a trick anymore, because the boss wouldn’t have bothered to go that far with it if he suspected anyone had turned against him. This woman was serious. She thought she could get me out of the hell hole that was the club. _But why?_ People didn’t have a habit of showing up unannounced to rescue hookers like me.

“Who _are_ you?”

Chernyy’s eyes widened momentarily at my question before she recomposed herself. Guiding me to sit on the edge of the bed, the mysterious woman took my hands in one of hers as she sat down to my left carefully placing the phone on the glistening sheet.

Her eyes bored into my very soul. “I need you to listen carefully to everything I say, and I need you to trust me if you want to get out of here.” _Trust…_ it felt like a lot, but how could my life get worse than it was? Biting my lip, I nod demurely. “Good. My name is not Chernyy, it’s Natasha Romanoff and I’m an agent working with the Avengers and formerly SHIELD.”

These were names I had heard when pretending to be just a pretty face, so I knew most people in this place would pay good money to either kill or capture this woman, or agent, and I had heard how the Avengers had saved New York from aliens a year ago. However, other than that there was very little I or the other girls new about the real world out there, because Daniel Stein made sure to keep us in a bubble, cut off from reality and laced with fear and guilt and apathy. We didn’t know what to expect out there anymore or where to go…and most of us had no one to turn to if we did get away.

“[Y/N].” Chernyy, or rather Natasha, squeezed my hand gently, bring my thoughts back to the moment. “What we do, my team and SHIELD, is to keep the world safe and make sure the bad guys are caught before they cause more damage. Terrorists. Some of them are or were connected to an organization called HYDRA, and they have a huge network to ensure their plans succeed.”

“Like the mafia…” I knew about criminals and killers, “like my boss.”

It made sense. From this place you would have access to everything you’d need to become a real danger to both random people and big organisations or nations, in this world everything was readily available as long as you could pay cash, cash that could also be earned here.

“Like Daniel Stein, yes. Our intel has confirmed that he’s a cornerstone in HYDRA’s foundations in Euro-Asia. If taken out, it’ll take months or maybe even years for them to recover!”

Dangerous terrorist or not, any of us girls would love to see the boss and his violent goons get their asses kicked…well those of us that were still alive and capable of thinking longer than the next score would. We would have been willing to risk our lives for it. Maybe Natasha Romanoff knew that, maybe it was just a lucky guess, but whatever the case she began explaining what they new of the three buildings that were my boss’s base: the club, his home, and the slum-like building where he kept us. Looking at the maps and blueprints projecting into the air from Natasha’s phone, I could add a few details about doors and tunnels that she and her people didn’t know about.

“What do you need me to do?” I hadn’t forgotten what she had said the first time I’d met her, and I was ready to do my part and help even if it scared me. “How can I…how can I he-elp?” The words didn’t come out strong like I wanted.

“You already have.” A crooked smile slid over her face as she studied me. “Today and twice before.”

Careful to keep strange spy-expression out of it, the woman explains briefly about what she had done the other times we’ve met, like the very first time, where she’d placed a tracker on my back to help them get a feeling for the extent of the domicile. It had been nothing but a tiny sticker, capable of adapting to almost any skin colour but its primary purpose was to send a signal to their gear, showing where I was. Maybe I should have been pissed off by that. She had used me without waiting for my consent… _and so what?_ That was my life. At least it had been for something I would have accepted if she’d given me the chance and not knowing had ensured I hadn’t had to lie about that too. Then there had been the napkin. It had surprised me a tiny bit that there hadn’t been some secret message on it, but my logic took over, telling me that the risk would have been too great, and I dismissed the idea.

“It registered handprints?!” _Yeah, right!_ I knew the Avengers had to be pretty high-tech but that was just ridiculous.

The smirk was audible, proving how smug she felt about her job and the gear they had. “Yeah, we almost lost it when you walked away with it though…thankfully, we have a couple of contacts.”

Curiosity and hope was flickering like a tiny flame in my chest and I instinctively hid it by looking at our entwined fingers in my lap. Maybe these other people could help me and the other girls. Maybe, just maybe, they would testify against my boss and put an end to his so-called business run on slavery and violence. But if that was the case…then why had they never tried to help us already? No, none of the people at the other side of the painted double doors were our allies, and why would she, a supposedly professional agent and hero, tell me these things? She knew my name, but she didn’t know me, and she was running a huge risk, counting on me not to go back and save my hide by telling Daniel Stein everything…and even if I didn’t want to, he had ways of making people talk. Natasha couldn’t be sure I wouldn’t rat on her. _Yes, she can._ Suddenly her fingers around mine felt like cuffs, her arms like chains. Her touch might have been light, but I knew all to well that that could change in an instance and I would be gripped in inescapable iron claws at the mercy of the other person. In my past, it had been men who would flip on me and the girls at the smallest imagined slight, and I’d suffered their wrath for weeks after, hiding the marks under thick layers of makeup…and I’d been grateful. They hadn’t killed me. They had let me live to beat me or rape me some other time. Glancing at the metallic blue eyes before me, a chill ran down my spine and spread as paralyzing goosebumps as I realized she wouldn’t just break me and leave me. _She’ll kill me to prevent me from talking._ Shifting awkwardly on the edge of the bed, I ran my chances of using the ring on her through my head. The odds of getting to Fabio before she got me were considered in less than a heartbeat.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she said, voice laden with the same kindness as the first time I’d met her, “but I won’t hurt you. I’m taking you away from this place.” Somehow, I managed to stay stock-still as she cupped my cheek. “Tonight.”


	6. All hell breaks lose

Oh, how I wanted to believe her, and I found myself leaning into the gentle touch and close my eyes to feel the softness of the slender fingers. If I did, if I trusted her blindly and went with her, how could anything end up worse than the life I already had? Bruised bodies wrapped in the bare minimum of clothes and moving as if possessed by even less consciousness than houseplants waltz before my inner eye, parading by as they fall one by one to needles, violence, foam bubbling from their mouths, or 9mm holes in their foreheads oozing the last dreams of a better life onto a dark, plush carpet. Oh, things could get so much worse.

“[Y/N], it’s okay. Just breathe.” Natasha’s voice was coming from far away. “I’ll keep you safe.”

“Why?” I had to blink before her face stood sharp. “Why’d you bother with me? What about the others?”

I saw the hesitation. It was the reluctance to promise something that everyone knew couldn’t be kept. The boss could lie without that hesitation and I would have expected an agent of some secretive spy-division to be able to do the same, after all, she’d made it past the checks that anyone wanting more than a drink at this club had to go through.

“We’re trying our best to keep them safe, to minimize casualties.” The urgency with which she said it seemed genuine enough although they were just words. “Please…let me get you out of here and I’ll explain. But we _have_ to go now.”

As if on cue the door burst open, slamming into the wall next to the newly splintered frame where it ground to a halt, stuck on the crooked hinges. Fabio was still holding his phone to the ear (or at least I assumed he was: even in the severity of the situation I couldn’t help but notice how ridiculously small it was in his hand, it nearly disappeared completely), but the other was holding the huge, shiny gun that he used to cradle like a baby when showing it off to the other brainless guards. He wasn’t aiming it at any of us, thankfully, and while he tried to take in the situation Natasha acted faster than both he and I could have anticipated. To say she was fast would be an understatement. I didn’t know what happened first, just that I suddenly was lying curled up on the floor with my heart pounding so loud everything else got drowned out, looking into Fabio’s eyes as the life leaked out through the gash in his neck where the champagne bottle had sunk deep. I was vaguely aware how, behind him, Natasha was coiled, ready to strike again if he moved. He didn’t.

“Showtime, guys.”

She wasn’t speaking to me, I knew that, still it got me moving and once I’d gotten to my feet I scrambled to get the phone and weapon Fabio had dropped when he fell. A calm I hadn’t felt in years was descending upon me, making it easier to think. Whatever was planned by this woman and her fellow agents, I had to make sure not to mess it up unless I could stomach being responsible for the deaths of more people. _The girls._

“You better take this one.” I prompted, holding out the gun that felt too heavy, too alien to me. “What’s gonna happen now?”

The plan sounded simple as she explained it, talking about an assault team like they were kids in a playgroup, and point of entries through roofs and windows in the same way other people would talk about taking the bus. While talking, she stripped the coat of buckles and hidden wiring, assembling parts into weapons of sorts that I had never seen, and checking the canon of a gun.

Snapping her attention away, though it was still partially on the phone, she zeroed in on me. “You’re holding up pretty well?”

“I dunno…” Other people would have felt something then, I knew. “I guess I won’t miss him.”

She could look at Fabio. I couldn’t. He would be there regardless, but not seeing meant that maybe I could keep myself from drowning in fear and regret.

…

Trailing behind her, we made our way from room to room to see if there were anyone Natasha would have to “take care of”, as she called it. There had been. Some had been my own former customers that had gotten handed down to the other girls as the boss figured out how I could serve him best. Some of the men had been harmless, others could have a mean streak from time to time if things were tough for them in their lives, and one…one was viscous. That night and any other. I watched him get killed, strangled in his own pants, but looking over at the girl he’d been molesting, I couldn’t help but feel that he got off easily. Trinity wasn’t aware of what was going on, and her hollow eyes wouldn’t be able to focus on anything without some serious therapy.

Drawing closer to the double doors, we could hear the thumping of the bass and the guests’ voices mixed with the rest of the music into a cacophony without distinctive beginnings and ends. Ideally, she wanted me to stay behind. Out of harms way in case things didn’t go according to plan.

“You’re going straight for the bo–for Stein.” Were they going to capture or kill him? Either way, I wanted to be there, to see them take him down. “Right?”

I couldn’t tell what she saw in my own [Y/E/C] eyes, but whatever it was, she must have approved of it. “Yes.” Her hand found mine, giving it a small squeeze. “Stay close then and do what I say.”

Walking into the much darker club area was like entering another world where shadows lived under constant bombardment. Flashes of light effects in all he colours of the rainbow followed the loud music and made the guests, who were milling on the dance floor and in the passages between the tables, look painted and unhealthy. No one noticed us until one of Yakamoto’s bodyguards tackled him to get him out of harm’s way…and just in time too. Then all hell broke lose.

An outsider might have thought that weapons weren’t allowed in the club, because as a new person they’d get patted down and anything that could be used to kill with would be confiscated (but given back at the exit, of course), and that habit would continue until the boss had _something_ on them at which point they would be told what would happen if they displeased him. No one wanted to get on Stein’s wrong side. He generated a bit of income through the club itself, but the real reason behind his importance was the connections he had. He knew everyone. And he knew everything about them too. You needed a specialist for a job? Stein could hook you up. You needed the right weapons or drugs? Just ask my boss. In the world amongst criminals, that sort of resources was power, and in exchange for putting people in touch with each other, all he might ask was a favour at some other point. That’s why everyone came there and as a result the club had become a place where one mobster could talk with the competition. Alliances were made (especially if it would serve to fight the cops or various government agencies), and quite often they’d get broken at the club too. Now and again, someone would kill another guest. As long as no one else were harmed, then all the offender had to do was to clean up and pay a fine to the boss. Sometimes money, sometimes manpower or a favour, often it would be several of the above. However, if a bystander got caught in the crossfire then it was a completely different matter…

I didn’t see who fired the first shot.


	7. Through the fray

Rushing past fancy dressed people, a shower of glitter caught my eyes at a standing-table. Seemingly in slow motion the amber liquid of a drink fell like a sheet sprinkled with crystal shards before drenching the hand that held the glass and the table below. I even had time to register the surprised looks on the faces of those around the table and the red blossom that began to grow on a white shirt.

“Down!”

Natasha’s voice broke my trance and fortunately I followed her onto the floor instinctively where we half slid, half crawled, to take cover behind a set of heavy lounge chairs. The music was still playing, but the rhythm kept getting punctured by the escalating sound of gunshots as bodyguards and their bosses did theirs to stay alive.

The feeling of a hand on my shoulder made me jump, but it was just Natasha. “We gotta move!”

I was used to navigating these floors and I knew where she wanted to go. It felt good to have a task, a purpose in the warzone-like chaos that had erupted around us and I clung to it like a drowning man to a lifesaver, knowing that if I didn’t then I’d panic. Crouched low, the hardened agent followed me closely along the stage. Sometimes her hand would snake around my waist to prevent us from running into crossfire. One such time, she pulled so hard at me that I lost balance and tumbled backwards into her, landing between her strong legs with my back pressed against her chest.

“What’s your shoe size?” Her breath was hot in my ear.

The huge gun she’d taken ownership off fired, jarring both of our bodies.

“What? This isn’t really –“

“This IS the time for it.” She shot again and this time I saw her target drop, preventing him from taking out what must be a fellow agent. “You’re good in heels, but a pair of flats would make everything easier for you.”

I hadn’t been able to take my eyes off the man she’d killed. A perfect headshot. He had landed hard on the wooden floor, crushing glass and bouncing slightly as he dropped belly down and came to rest with his face turned towards us. Towards me. Empty eyes stared at me, as if it had been my fault that he suddenly was dead, and the hole between his eyes was oozing. Drip-drip-dripping into the green-red carpet that held a thousand hues where the sunshine slanted onto it and I knew that it would be impossible to clean it properly, that there always would be a bit of Chastity left and – lips pressed against mine and suddenly it was not the dead person on the ground I could see, but the blurry view to grey eyes in a refined face surrounded by red hair. It didn’t last long.

The moment Natasha realized I was reciprocating the kiss, she pulled away. “Good. Now breathe. I need you sharp.” I could only nod. “We can’t stay here. If you can’t do this, then I’ll make sure my team knows, but I’ll have to continue –”

“I’ll come.” Listening to my own voice, it didn’t sound like it. “I’m fine.”

Somehow, we managed to make it to the other end of the stage. From there we were facing a relatively open area, made even harder to cross because of fallen people, toppled furniture, and shattered glasses with the contents making the floor slippery. Suddenly the idea about flat shoes made sense, but there was no time anymore. The agent from before appeared at the corner of my eye, hurling what at that moment looked like a top from one of the round standing-tables towards Chester, Fabio’s second in command. That must have what Natasha was waiting for, because she squeezed my hand and let me into a sprint that carried us the last part of the way to the door leading to the back rooms where I was used to come and go with the other girls.

The doors slammed behind me at the hands of a large figure, but it turned out to be the other agents. Leaning against the wall, I fought my heartbeat and fear down while gasping for air. The short run must have been tougher than I though because I’m out of breath and harbouring a stitch in my left side.

Natasha smiled up at the tall agent. “How’s it looking, Steve?”

“Perimeter’s secured, same with targets in the club itself.” His voice was one of comfort and safety, maybe from years of training, but most likely just because that was who he was…which didn’t look to be bad at all. “The other team’s securing the girls and Clint’s got eyes on the prize.”

Tall, triangular, blond and blue eyed…a part of me with dark, inappropriate humour couldn’t help but notice how much one of my boss’ clients would have coveted this man as a prime example of a man to foster a new generation from. Then I noticed the thing he’d been tossing before. It wasn’t a table top (how could I ever have thought that?) but a round shield decorated with white, blue and red. _Steve. Captain…Steve…Rogers._ Feeling out of place next to someone like him, I tugged my thin robe a bit tighter around me.

“[Y/N], meet Cap,” Natasha smirked, more comfortable about making the introduction than the man in focus seemed to be about being introduced, “Cap, this is [Y/N], previously known as Glory.” She only waited a heartbeat while popping something in her ear that the Captain had handed her. “Okay, lets get going.”

Ignoring the continuous stitch, I hurried with them through the maze of storage and changing rooms until we got to the tunnel leading under the road and up into the boss’s home. It took a moment to find the switch, a moment that I also used for trying to catch my breath. All the adrenaline that was coursing through my body because of everything going on was making me a bit dizzy, but I’d been through worse things than this…except the number of killings.

“Straight ahead for a while.” Pointing down the tunnel, I let them go first.

The last time I’d walked with this way, it had been with one of the grunts on the way to my meeting with the boss and the tunnel had felt too short. Now it was too long. I knew what was coming and, sure, a part of me dreaded it, but a much bigger part couldn’t wait to see Stein get what he deserved so the longer we walked, the more nervous I became. This was my revenge, to ensure his doom, and I needed to do it right. Each step made my heart beat faster and softened my legs until they felt like jelly. We made it to the grand hall and I pointed Natasha and Captain fucking America up the marble stairs while kicking off the high heels to easier keep my balance on the plush carpet in the hall above. Clammy sweat was covering my body. _Just you wait, Daniel Stein._ Brushing my hands against the wall, I smiled weakly at the thought of him _knowing_ that I helped take him down. Me. _His Glory_.


	8. Face to face

The two agents hesitated outside as if waiting for some signal. When it came, I assume there was some order in their ear pieces, it was the Dorito-shaped man that kicked in the door in a rain of splinters before entering as if to be a shield against any attack aimed at us. It was a good thing too. Two shots hit the shield, creating the sound of a gong being struck, before the Captain was close enough to bash the weapon away and then land a heavy punch.

At least I thought that was what must have happened…by the time I peered past Natasha’s shoulder, the man from the 40’ies was straightening the wobbly shape of my boss up in the heavy, leather office chair. Every time the other girls and I got so see our owner, because that was really what he was, he was perfectly groomed with the brown hair slicked back and a face worthy of the biggest billboards. It would have felt great, somehow, if I could’ve said he was ugly, fat, and smelly. Of course, he wasn’t. Knowing how he used to look heightened the contrast of his current state where both hair and clothes were dishevelled, and the once perfectly straight nose had gotten an odd bend and was gushing blood. The haunted glimmer in his eyes was familiar because every girl he owned had radiated the same fear at some point before he got them drugged out of their minds. He knew. Everything he’d done was catching up with him and there was nowhere to run. No places to hide.

Steve Rogers was standing next to the highbacked chair, quiet as a statue and somehow controlling Stein’s movements with just one gloved hand on my former boss’s shoulder. Even from where I’m standing could I see the contempt in the blue eyes of the veteran. The jaws were working hard, and his breathing strained in the manner of someone trying to hold back rather than recover from physically strenuous work. Every fiber in the captain wanted to give my boss what he deserved, but it wasn’t his task at that moment and he let Natasha do her job. She got his attention by squatting on the antique desk before him, snapping her fingers until he focused the bleary eyes.

“Daniel Stein…Stein, Stein, Stein...” There was a singsong quality to her voice that would have fitted a horror movie. “You’ve been busy playing with the big boys, haven’t you?”

My legs threatened to give out underneath me. I had to sit. Moving towards the sofa by the windows, I didn’t take my eyes off the boss, so I notice how his gaze swiveled and locked onto me, prompting a mad smile to split his face in two. It made my skin crawl with cold goosebumps. There was no filter, nothing to hide how twisted and cruel he was and had been all the time to be able to run the kind of business he did.

“Hey!” Natasha tapped him on top of the head with the cannon of a gun. “You look at me, not her.”

He did, and I made it the rest of the way to the sofa. As I sat down, I felt my heel tap something hard on the floor and I bend down to see my boss’s gun lying there. A black and deadly killing machine. It wasn’t as big as I had expected, which probably explained why it felt light in my hand and allowed my fingers to curl easily around the handle when I grabbed it. Perhaps I should’ve been intimidated or at least apprehensive of the idea of holding a real, loaded gun so comfortably, but I wasn’t. It made me feel safer. No, not safe…powerful. For the first time in my life, I knew I’d be able to put up a fight worth mentioning if I had to.

Glaring over at the three people, I tried to focus on what they were saying, but the words were coming from a place much further away, creating echoes as they warped through space to reach my ears, and instead I had to extrapolate what was happening from their faces and actions. Natasha wasn’t happy, maybe because Stein didn’t tell her what she wanted to know, not even when she started breaking his fingers. He just kept laughing the dizzying cackle of a madman. The sound made my head spin, so I was grateful when the red-haired miracle made him stop and I could shake the dizziness away.

“I’ll never tell you, bitch,” Stein sneered, “never.” He spat out blood… _maybe he’d taken a punch to the teeth too?_ “Just accept it.”

If he hadn’t been clocked in the face by Natasha before then he did now, and it was so hard that I could hear his jaw crack and neck creak as his head snapped towards me. He had to blink a few times before spotting me where I was sitting by myself, then I recognized the diabolic glee that I’d seen in the kind of client that liked to hurt us to get off.

Turning slightly to look at Natasha from under his messy hair, he chuckled darkly. “I won’t go with you, so feel free to kill me.” The chuckle became a proper laughter. “At least I won’t go alone.”

The boss lunged at the much smaller woman sitting before him, but his attack got stopped. One gunshot rang out, then a second and a third although the last only hit the dark wood of the table he’d sunk down behind.

The face of a woman with fiery hair pops up at the far end of the table where she’d rolled off to get away from either Stein or the bullets. “[Y/N]?” Her voice was echoing, spilling out from a glass jar on its way to me. “[Y/N]…put the gun down.”

 _The gun?_ Looking a bit down, I saw my hands clutch the black weapon, but they weren’t my hands. Not really. I had to concentrate to detach my fingers and let the thing drop to the floor with a thud softened by the plush carpet with the swirly pattern. _Such a soft carpet,_ I thought, _I must be nice to lie on that._ The image of Chastity lying motionless on the same surface calmed me because I remembered how peaceful she looked.

Natasha’s voice penetrated the fuzzy darkness, urging me to wake up and look at her. I was so, so tired, but how could I deny her that? She saved me.

“No, [Y/N],” she argued softly, “you saved yourself, and now you gotta enjoy it so don’t fall asleep, okay?”

“Yeah…”

She was holding me tight against her, strong arms wrapping me in safety and warmth. _Warmth._ I needed it. My body was getting cold and heavy and a part of me knew that it wasn’t supposed to be like that even if it meant being close to her.


	9. The last chapter

Something is itching the back of my hand, but my limbs are too heavy too move and lying in the plush, warm cocoon is the most comfortable I can remember being for half an eternity. I can’t recall how long. Stirring my sluggish memories, I catch fragments and glimpses out of order. It feels like I should know the combination in much the same way as a puzzle I know I’ve completed in the past, but don’t remember the image of and looking at the individual pieces gives too little information. To top it all off, each attempt makes my brain work slower. It makes me tired.

…

The itch on my hand is back. Maybe that’s what wakes me again or perhaps it’s the distant murmur of voices. _Who’s talking?_ The female voice doesn’t belong to any of the girls, and the man…no, that’s not how the boss’s goons would talk to us. I have to fight my eyelids before they agree to stay up, allowing me to look around the room I’m in. White and blue linen covers the bedding which in turn is tugged neatly down on either side by the bed rails. I find my hands lying on top of the covers, and into the back of one of these slightly alien limbs is a dropline. _Oh…that would explain._ Fumbling, I try to get my hands to meet over my belly, but somehow, I’ve got my left arm stuck in some wires, and I feel the tug on my skin under the white hospital gown I’ve been dressed in. Grabbing the wires, I tug sharply the other way, and I’m mighty proud of myself as I feel them let go of whatever plug they’ve been in…but the pride evaporates the instant an incessant beeping fills the room. It’s not loud as such, just annoying enough that I try to block it out by clasping my palms to my ears.

A door, which I only now notice, is slammed open to grant entrance to a flock of people. There she is, leading the charge and with the red hair whipping around her face. Natasha. She’s got jeans and a tank top on with a sweater over that looks a million sizes too big, completely different from the monochrome suit she last was sporting, but even in casual clothes the agent’s still unable to hide that she’s ready to fight anything if she must.

“[Y/N]!” It’s a wonder to behold as the thin line of a mouth unfurls into a bright smile, making Natasha’s face radiate. “You’re awake…kept me waiting long enough, babe.”

The endearment awakens butterflies in my belly. She’s by the bedside now, ignoring the doctors and nurses who’re plugging the wires back in the machine and do all sorts of other things. I can’t be bothered to check what they’re busy with either, all I care about is her smile and the way she holds my hand as if I might take off running any minute. But where would I go? In fact…

“Where are we?” I grimace at the hoarseness of my voice.

Reaching out, Natasha brushes some hair out of my face. “Somewhere safe.”

Although it’s comforting to hear, it’s not very informative or even surprising. Anything involving this kind of medical care and this hero must be good. The entire place is, now that I begin to look around, impressively high-tech and too spacious to be part of any publicly accessible hospital, not to mention that the bit of the view through the windows is full of sky and the top of buildings trying to reach as high as the one we’re in. By the door that everybody came running through is the triangular shape of Captain America and a smaller, but well trained, guy with short, messy hair. _He looks friendly enough_ , I try to convince myself half-heartedly.

“You remember Steve, right?” Natasha has been watching me as I take in the surroundings.

“Yeah.”

The Captain. The hero of old, an incorruptible good guy according to all the stories I’ve heard. For me, however, it’s hard to feel any trust at the sight of him because of what he is: a guy. So what if both of those men helped at the club? The sight of them makes me tense.

Next to me the perfect face brightens with a new smile as if she’d expected me not to recall anything. “The other guy’s Clint, he’s my best friend.” Leaning in to rest her forehead against mine, she whispers, “Why didn’t you say you got hurt? We would have gotten you out of there.”

“Didn’t realize, I think.” Her brows furrow against my skin. “I had to uhm…had to see the b-that Stein got what he deserved.”

Never before in my life had I shot anyone, and not only had I expected it to be harder to actually pull the trigger, I also don’t feel any of the guilt I thought I would have to deal with. _Maybe it’ll come._ Pushing the concern away, I refocus on my body, sensing a dull ache in my right side for the first time. Yanking the covers and the gown they’ve dressed me in aside reveals very little (except that the movements makes it hurt a bit more) because the area is covered by thick bandages.

“It’s time [Y/N] gets some rest.”

It’s a petite Asian doctor talking, and she might as well have cast a spell because my eyelids get too heavy to keep open and the voices seem to come from further and further away.

…

I’m not entirely awake at first, but the pain that burns through my right side as I try to turn does the trick. Swearing loudly doesn’t soothe the pain, but it feels good anyways and I add few extra for good measure.

“You were lucky,” the petite Asian doctor addresses me from the door, “out of all the things that could’ve happened, it only hit your liver.” She’s made it to the tower of screens and is studying my vitals or whatever it shows. “I’m Doctor Helen Cho, by the way. You might be able to go home in a week if you come back daily the first while and someone’s there to look after you.”

 _Home._ The home I’ve had is not a place I want to go back to, and before that…no, that’s not an option. “That…might not be possible.” I really try not to sound pathetic. “I’ve got no one and nowhere.”

Nearly black eyes pierce me as I lie there in the hospital bed. “Miss Romanoff would be sad to hear that…” The tiniest of smiles is tugging at a corner of Doctor Cho’s mouth. “She didn’t leave your side until the day you woke up, and since then only under protests.”

…

At first, I don’t like not knowing where I am, but as time passes where people are treating me nicely and the doctors and nurses tend to the wound expertly…it changes. They acts like they want me to get better for my sake and not to make money off of me. Both Steve and Clint drop by a few times, and the initial mistrust starts to fade slightly as they tell about their lives as Avengers. I almost start to enjoy their company, but what truly keeps my spirit up is Natasha.

Doctor Cho’s right about Natasha who insists on staying at my bedside at any opportunity, sometimes she chats about anything on her or my mind and if not, then we just sit quietly together. It feels _right_ to be close to her and the feeling’s bolstered when she introduces the habit of holding my hand and I discover myself recalling the kiss we shared at the club. Her lips had been soft and demanding, molding perfectly against mine...but each time the urge to recreate that sensation presents itself, I get too nervous. _Why would anyone want me for who I am?_ It’s too foolish, too conceited, to dream that Natasha’s feelings could be at all similar to mine, that she’d want to hook up with me when she knows what life I’ve led.

…

We’re watching a movie one evening, when she pauses it and turns to look at me. Her grey eyes scrutinize the tiniest change in my mimic, making me nervous.

“[Y/N]. I can barely begin to imagine what sort of hell you’ve lived in and everything you’ve had to survive…” She bites her lip in a way that makes me wish it was my teeth…or lip. But still I look away because I don’t want to talk about my time as Stein’s property. “[Y/N]…” The slender hand cups my cheek, turning my head carefully, gently. “You don’t have to talk about it, but if I say or do something that upsets you because of it...please tell me.”

“Uh…’kay.” A heavy lump is cooling down my stomach and making it hard to breathe right.

Natasha repositions herself before continuing. “Normally, I’d just…do it, but I don’t wanna scare you so…is it alright if I kiss you?”

I don’t answer, I just go for it, crushing my lips against her mouth greedily and ignoring the pain in my side. Her reaction is tender, and she allows me to set the pace as the kiss deepens and my tongue runs over her lips in search of a gap to slip through. She tastes of sweet bubble gum and the coffee she’s been drinking earlier. As if on their own, my hands reach to hold this fabulous woman closer, but the movement makes me wince.

“Okay. Alright.” She coos, pushing me gently back onto the bed. “I don’t want you hurt, babe. You need to get well so you can get out of the med-bay.” _And go where?_ “Well…about that…” It’s impossible to hide the blush when I realize I must have spoken out loud. “Would you want to live with me? Maybe find out if we can work things out together? I don’t like the idea of you alone somewhere and…and…well, it makes me happy to wake up and know I’ll see you the same day.”

The lump in my stomach had melted while we were exploring each other’s mouths, in its place are butterflies and a serene feeling of belonging and a happiness I can’t recall ever having felt.

“I’d love that, Tasha.”

…

The End.


End file.
